Release
by The Frisky Firelily
Summary: The need for it is blinding him. 3rd in the Discovery-verse, follows Bare and Shirt.


**TITLE: **Release

**DISCLAIMER: **Not mine.

**A/N:** 3rd in the Discovery-verse. Not Italian myself, just a big ol' fan. Plus I'm married to a cook.

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Jayne's stomach growled angrily as he left his weight bench in the cargo bay. Since they'd arrived on Hera the crew had gone their separate ways for the day, the crazy girl accompanying her brother and Kaylee to the fresh produce market the world was famous for.

He'd been given a few hours of free time and had immediately headed to the closest cathouse with a fully stocked bar. The whore had been a curvy blonde with twinkling blue eyes and a raunchy laugh that made him leer as he'd paid. When he'd followed her up to the room he'd felt a wave of impending release sweeping over him – he needed this, badly. The last few weeks had been torture, and he had a growing suspicion the crazy girl knew it.

She'd taken to wearing more of Simon's cast off shirts, often appearing at meals with glistening skin and shower wet hair that soaked into the material of her chosen ensemble. The day the shirt had been white he'd excused himself quickly, feigning illness to get away from her. It didn't help that he swore he saw a cheeky smile cross her face as he hurried out of the room.

So when he'd followed that whore upstairs it had been with the best of intentions to use his time productively and forget about the girl. It was a well-known fact that the male brain could only store so many images, and he thought creating a few new ones might help erase the one of her in the shower room.

No such luck. And it's not like she wasn't good, pulling out every trick in the book to get him over the edge to no avail. Finally, after two hours of relentless movement and fighting his brain he allowed himself to close his eyes. The image of her wet and bare in the shower room was all it took.

It was over in seconds.

The whore, Carmen he'd thought her name was, had given him a sly smile. "Who's the girl?" He'd snarled something about minding her own ruttin' business, dressed in a hurry and bolted from the building. Rutting girl had ruined 17 years of naked images and sexual encounters with a split second of nudity.

He'd headed straight back to the ship, going through his workout to try and burn off some of the excess sexual energy. The brief moment of release hadn't helped, not when it came from a whore and not her, and his body felt tight with tension.

Which is why he was now in a foul mood as he headed up towards the kitchen. The moment he set foot in the hallway the smell filled his nostrils. Rich, warm, inviting. It smelled like home. He walked into the kitchen, surprised to see the rest of the crew waiting patiently around the table, eyes as hungry as his own in light of the incredible smell.

He looked to the kitchen where River was pulling something out of the oven. He glared. "Who let the crazy girl cook, thought she weren't 'sposed ta be touchin' no sharp objects." Mal smirked. "She said she wanted ta do somethin' nice an' if you can resist them puppy dog eyes she throws at ya then yer a stronger man then me."

The girl in question shot Mal a radiant smile as she moved towards the table with the large dish held in her gloved hands. The smell of meat and cheese was overwhelming, and Jayne's mind raced. Nobody knew his home planet was Roma, nobody knew that Cobb had once been Cobriani. His home world was founded by the ancient Italians from earth-that-was and whilst much of the culture was lost they still clung tightly to their cooking.

The secrets of pasta making were rarely found outside of Roma, the inhabitants possessively guarding their recipes like the last relic of their country of origin. Which was why he was amazed to see the beautiful dish of lasagna in front of him. The top was golden brown and bubbling, baked perfectly.

He looked at her with wide eyes. "Where the ruttin' hell'd ya learn how ta cook that?" River gave him a secret smile, tapping the side of her head. He shook himself, moving to take his seat as she divided up the pasta dish onto nine plates.

Jayne couldn't help noticing his helping was a little more impressive than the others.

Book smiled at River as she sat down. "Little one this looks wonderful. What is it?" River shrugged. "Pasta sheets, bolognese, béchamel and fresh parmesan." The words were out of Jayne's mouth before he could stop them. "It's lasagne."

Luckily nobody noticed as they took their first bites of the dish. Inara moaned in pleasure at the flavour in her mouth. "River I've had bolognese before but this is divine! What's your secret?"

The girl smiled shyly, pleased to be the centre of attention for doing something right for once. She struggled to get the words out, eventually looking to Simon to supply them. The doctor nodded, having watched her preparation carefully. "It's called mirepoix, and she slow cooked the mince for hours in red wine. And she made the pasta sheets by hand. She sourced all the ingredients today, used the last of her pay from that job on Isis."

Zoe nodded approvingly. "Little one thank you; you are welcome ta cook for us anytime." Jayne didn't say anything. The first bite of rich bolognese, creamy béchamel and tangy parmesan had sent him right back to his mother's kitchen on Roma. The feelings of tension from just moments before were completely obliterated as the warmth of the childhood memory spread slowly through his limbs.

As the rest of the crew waxed lyrical about River's amazing dish the girl in question looked shyly to the mercenary sitting next to her. He kept his eyes on his plate, refusing to look away in case a crew member saw the happiness in them and started asking questions. He tried not to notice the way her shoulders drooped a little in disappointment.

After the whole crew had gorged themselves on River's offering it was Kaylee's turn to wash up, Simon moving to help her as the others slowly headed back to their bunks, each stopping to thank River again for a very special meal. It was common for members of the crew to occasionally splurge on good quality foodstuffs such as fresh bread or real butter, but an entire meal was decidedly generous.

Jayne waited until she was halfway back to her room before going after her. He caught her arm, turning her quickly and slamming his hand against the wall by her head. He looked for any hint of mischief in those whiskey brown eyes and found none.

He kept his voice low. "You pick that outta my brain girlie?" River's eyes went straight to the floor, confirming his suspicions before she spoke them aloud. "An offering, an apology." Her eyes met his and he was surprised at the calm wisdom he saw in them. "Sometimes the catalyst required for release is comfort, not sex."

She slipped out under his arm as he tried to wrap his head around what she'd said. Course it didn't help that as soon as she said sex the blood in his brain had said goodbye and headed south for the winter.

Still, as he lay down on his bunk later that night, he couldn't help the smile that crossed his face. The reminder of home had been nice; the girl was a helluva cook.

And anything that kept Simon out of the kitchen was okay with Jayne.

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**A/N: **For those interested mirepoix is finely diced carrot, onion and celery. It's often sautéed and added to other dishes. Also, I know Americans often say 'noodles' instead of pasta, so I hope this made sense. Please review :) Also, Happy Thanksgiving to you all!


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